The air crackled with tension, thick and oppressive like the monsters infesting Rein City.
The monstrous roars and the crash of collapsing structures resonated through the dense atmosphere, each sound a reminder of the chaos closing in.
The scent of smoke and damp concrete filled Carol's lungs as she pushed herself to move faster, each step a battle against fatigue.
"Aiko insists that we hurry. Bossman needs Aiko's help if he is to win," the blue apparition's voice cut through the chaos like an electric current, jolting Carol into urgency.
The pale, ethereal glow surrounding Aiko cast ghostly shadows on the cracked walls as she darted up the stairwell, almost disappearing from view.
Carol felt every muscle scream in protest, but she forced herself onward, sweat dripping into her eyes, blurring her vision.
Aiko's impatience was evident, a barely contained storm.
She flitted up the stairs with unnatural grace, two at a time, her translucent figure a blur. The echo of Carol's boots pounded behind her, too slow, too human.
Every second counted, and Aiko's sharp eyes glared back with a silent accusation.
"Two more floors, then take the door on your immediate right," Carol gasped out, fighting the burn in her legs.
Aiko had already surged ahead, the final set of stairs falling away beneath her in a matter of heartbeats.
"Aiko sees it, let's go," she hissed, already before the apartment door.
It was locked, a stubborn obstacle standing between them and its occupants. Without hesitation, Aiko's hand raised and she started knocking angrily.
Inside, Prudence felt the weight of fear pressing down like a physical force. She clutched Carol's child tightly, trying to calm her racing heart.
The silence in the room was broken only by the faint whimpers of the boy, and her own shallow breaths.
The echo of Aiko's command to open the door, fierce and edged with menace, sent a shiver through her spine.
"Aiko is losing her patience for the nanny that is inside!" The apparition's voice reverberated through the wood and walls, each word laced with a threat Prudence couldn't ignore.
But fear of what might lie beyond the door rooted her in place. What if it was a trick? What if this was just another trap in a city already overrun by terrors?
The pounding on the door suddenly ceased, and silence filled the hallway like a held breath.
It was Carol's voice that shattered it, hoarse and urgent, "Prudence, it's me. Open the door, we need to leave right now."
The recognition was instant. Relief and shock propelled Prudence forward, the latch clattering as she threw it open. Carol nearly stumbled inside, bypassing Prudence as she reached out to gather her son into her arms.
But Aiko's anger was not to be ignored.
The slap rang out, sharp and unforgiving, freezing Prudence in place with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"When Aiko tells the nanny to open the door, the nanny doesn't sit around making a fool of Aiko. Quickly, soldier, Aiko does not want to remind you that we cannot stay here longer." The words snapped in the air like a whip, leaving no room for argument.
Carol's pulse hammered in her ears as she took in the scene—the faint tremor of Prudence's hands, the unshed tears welling in her eyes. There was no time for apologies or explanations.
The entire building seemed to shudder as if mirroring the turmoil outside. The roar of water, distant but unmistakable, seeped into the apartment. The Rein River's furious surge was closing in, and time was slipping through their fingers. They needed to vacate the building before the floods came.
"Come with us, Prudence, quickly," Carol commanded, shaking the stunned woman's shoulder to rouse her from shock.
The urgency in her voice broke through Prudence's stupor, and together they bolted down the stairs. Aiko went ahead, her form pulsing with agitation.
The stairwell echoed with their frantic descent, the rumble of water swelling below. They burst out onto the street, eyes widening at the sight of the rising flood.
The waters licked at their ankles, creeping up with a terrifying steadiness. Broken furniture and debris swirled in the eddies, a grim preview of what would come if they lingered.
"Soldier, we cannot go back to Bossman with the son and the nanny with us. Do you have another plan?" Aiko's eyes blazed before Carol, each word driving the point home.
This was a crossroads, a decision with lives in the balance.
Before Carol could respond, the rumble of engines roared down the street. A motorcade of military jeeps and armored tanks barreled through the watery haze, splashing sheets of muddy water in their wake.
Soldiers leapt from the vehicles, their eyes fierce, their movements precise. They saluted Carol with grim determination.
"We could not leave you behind, Ma'am, so we went and got reinforcements," one explained, his voice sharp and steady amid the chaos.
"How did you know to find me here?" Carol shouted over the rising din, the relief clashing with disbelief.
"We figured the only reason you'd want to stay back was to rescue your family, Ma'am," another soldier replied, stepping forward in civilian attire.
"And what about your families? Who's going to take care of them now that you're all out here?" she demanded, even as Prudence and her child were helped into one of the armored vehicles.
"Ma'am, we were also able to rescue them before coming here," the soldier reassured. His words brought a fleeting moment of solace, a rare victory in the storm.
"Did HQ authorize this mission?" Carol pressed, her instincts as an officer warring with the gratitude she felt.
"No, Ma'am. But with all due respect, Lieutenant, we weren't going to leave you behind. Every soldier here has availed themselves because we are loyal to you, Ma'am, and we wanted to keep you safe," the young soldier declared, eyes steely with conviction.
The sounds of rushing water intensified, the street turning into a churning, frothing torrent.
Aiko shifted, the blue light of her form flickering with impatience. "The soldier can now go to a safe place. Aiko needs to go help the Bossman."
The air roared with a chaotic symphony of crumbling stone, screeching metal, and the high-pitched whine of bullets tearing through concrete.
The explosion in the distance was more than just noise—it was a shockwave that sent shudders through the already weakened structure, reverberating through Jack's bones as he steadied himself.
Dust and debris swirled in suffocating clouds, cloaking the scene in a gritty shroud of tension.
The six-story parking lot was once a pristine showroom of power and wealth, lined with gleaming Lamborghinis, Paganis, and even a Bugatti Chiron that sat majestically at the far corner.
Now, it was a battlefield.
The walls shook, cracked, and splintered as Caesar's floating prisms orbited around him, their dark, polished surfaces glinting ominously as they released volley after volley of high-powered rounds. Each bullet was like a hammer blow, biting chunks out of the walls and supports, turning them into jagged, skeletal remains.
Caesar stood at the center, a dark figure framed by the carnage, eyes burning with maniacal intent.
The prisms' relentless barrage had started to take its toll—the building groaned under the assault, leaning precariously to the left.
The once-sturdy columns trembled, struggling to bear the shifting weight. Luxury cars, their polished surfaces now dull with dust and debris, began sliding across the slick floor, the squeal of rubber against polished concrete filling the air like the shriek of the damned.
Jack's pulse hammered in his ears as he moved, feet shifting quickly to avoid a crimson Porsche 911 that skidded by with lethal grace, its headlights shattering as it collided with a concrete barrier.
The ground beneath him was no longer stable; it buckled and dipped, threatening to pitch him sideways.
He could feel the fight transforming into a desperate battle against both his enemy and the collapsing environment around him.
Caesar's laugh cut through the din—a jagged, cruel sound that matched the chaos he orchestrated. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the prisms darting at angles, their fire intensifying as they targeted the cars.
The sharp bursts of gunfire ricocheted in an echo that made the building quake. A Lamborghini spun on its axle, colliding into a Pagani and sending shards of carbon fiber scattering like shrapnel.
Jack leaped to the side just as the first car struck, a relentless chain reaction unfolding in slow motion. Caesar's sheer strength was monstrous—impossible to fathom as he lifted a BMW M8 as if it were a toy and flung it toward Jack.
The car soared, a blur of metal and speed, catching the light of flickering fires as it came straight for him.
He barely had time to dive out of the way, the wind of its passage cutting like a blade as it smashed into the floor behind him, glass and metal exploding.
But the onslaught didn't end there. Caesar pressed forward, pushing more vehicles with a grin that spoke of his total confidence.
The ground beneath Jack's boots lurched violently as the building tilted further, and then he felt it—a jolt as a 1.4-tonne Porsche 911, spinning with unstoppable force, clipped him in the side.
Pain lanced through his ribs as the impact sent him crashing through the building's window along with the car .
The world turned into a blur of shattered glass and shrieking metal as the car plummeted down, gravity's embrace pulling them toward the hard asphalt far below.
Dust and debris billowed in a suffocating cloud as the six-story building crumbled under its own weight, toppling the nearby buildings in a catastrophic chain reaction.
The domino effect sent billions of dollars' worth of luxury vehicles plummeting into the abyss, their shattered frames swallowed by the churning debris below.
Amid this chaos, Caesar soared with an almost eerie calm, one hand gripping the edge of a floating, darkly shimmering prism. The air around him crackled with energy, his expression twisted into a triumphant smirk as he locked eyes with Jack.
The debris rained around them, pieces of broken architecture slicing through the air like deadly confetti.
Seeing Caesar's maneuver, Jack narrowed his eyes, adrenaline sharpening his reflexes. With no other choice, he reached out and caught hold of another prism that had strayed near, his muscles straining as the jagged edges bit into his palms.
The prism hovered erratically under his weight, its dark surface vibrating with latent power. Bullets ricocheted around him, the sharp cracks echoing as Caesar's laughter cut through the chaos.
"You prove yourself resourceful!" Caesar's voice rang out, mocking yet begrudgingly impressed.
The compliment barely registered before the prism Jack clung to flared in rebellion. It bucked like a wild animal, and a torrent of high-caliber bullets erupted from its sides, punching through Jack's hand.
He clenched his teeth as blood flowed in hot streams, staining his tattered sleeve crimson. The pain was blinding, a jagged spike that cut through his focus.
Enhanced durability was all that stood between him and being shredded by the prism's retaliation. But even with his body fortified to withstand impacts that would kill an ordinary man, the relentless barrage was still tearing him apart.
The Flowing Paradise talent was working overtime to mitigate the worst of the damage, but even it couldn't fully stave off the sheer brutality of the prism's assault.
Amid the deafening destruction, the battle moved with terrifying momentum.
Jack's instincts screamed for action. His perforated hand throbbed with each pulse, but he knew he couldn't afford the luxury of pain.
He activated Rejuvenation before his hand was completely torn off, feeling a searing warmth wash over his injuries as the bleeding slowed, tissue knitting itself back together at an accelerated pace. The respite was brief but vital.
Just as he stabilized, the pair hurtled through the shattering glass façade of a high-rise—headquarters to one of the nation's largest open-world game developers.
The pristine, tech-filled place erupted into chaos, computer terminals and holographic displays smashing apart as the two combatants crashed in, on separate floors.
Jack fell into the floor below.
Jack could barely see anything as momentum pushed his body straight through countless servers till he was stopped by the wall at the opposite end. His left hand was already torn (again ) beyond recognition so he had no choice but to use Rejuvenation on it.
He was surprised , however , when he still retained the sixth rejuvenation bar that should have been used up.
Apparently , levelling up not only increased the number of rejuvenation bars that he had , but also their overall individual effectiveness.
This was a relief , since he could at least start launching the offensive without the fear of sustaining irreparable damage that had been mentally holding him back.
Caesar landed on the floor above , where a group of cosplayers had taken refuge behind an upturned desk waiting for the government to come rescue them.
It was over for them when Caesar's prisms flew over , perforating their bodies like high pressure blood bags.
The prisms then split their forces in half , one group going outside the building to start tearing down its foundations like before, while the other group handled the interior.
It didn't take long for the storm of bullets to bring the ceiling down on Jack below , and with it Caesar , busting with energy and smiling like the fight was just starting.
The air inside the shattered floor felt thick with tension, crackling with the residual energy of shattered screens and exposed wiring.
Jack's chest heaved as he steadied himself, eyes locked on Caesar. His enemy stood tall, an unyielding figure surrounded by the eerie glow of his hovering prisms. The flickering emergency lights cast Caesar's face in harsh shadows, amplifying the malevolent grin that curved his lips.
Jack launched himself forward without hesitation, muscles coiled and ready.
The impact when their fists met was like thunder, a collision of force that rattled the cracked remains of the lobby. Each strike came fast and hard, the blows a testament to their near-equal mastery of hand-to-hand combat.
For a moment, the world narrowed to the sound of their grunts, the clash of bone and sinew, the sharp intake of breath as they strained for dominance.
But Caesar's eyes, alight with a cunning gleam, gave away his next move a split second before it happened.
He sidestepped with impossible precision, and Jack's fist sliced through empty space. The momentum threw him off balance, sending him stumbling forward. His heart lurched as the realization struck—he was vulnerable.
Panic seared through him, raw and electric, as he scrambled to regain his footing. Time seemed to slow as he twisted, catching a glimpse of Caesar's smirk.
The sight of it chilled him more than the surrounding chaos. By the time Jack planted his boots firmly on the cracked tile, it was too late. He looked up to find himself encircled by over a dozen prisms, their dark, mirrored surfaces glinting like the eyes of a predator waiting to pounce.
"Flowing Paradise," Jack chanted, desperation lacing his voice as he re-engaged the talent , preparing himself psychologically for what was to come.
"Now," Caesar commanded, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
A split second later, the prisms unleashed their fury. The barrage hit him like a torrential downpour, each bullet a hot, searing bite.
Jack's body jerked with every impact as he stood grounded trapped in the cyclone of ammunition. The Flowing Paradise worked overtime, its mitigative effects battling against the sheer force tearing through him.
For a moment, it held.
But the onslaught was relentless. One bullet bit through and then another, and another. The warm trickle of blood soon turned to a steady stream, staining his torn attire and matting his skin.
The Flowing Paradise talent was failing, its output falling short against the relentless hailstorm. His feet trembled as blood seeped from countless wounds, dripping to the floor in crimson pools.
Caesar watched with an almost clinical fascination, head tilted slightly, eyes glittering with triumph.
The prisms maintained their deadly formation, pulsing as they unloaded round after round into Jack's battered frame.